


Ties

by Littlewinns



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: But there's more Winn angst than I intended tbqh, Gen, It was supposed to just be fluff, Set pre-2X08, Winn POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlewinns/pseuds/Littlewinns
Summary: Before Thanksgiving, Winn helps Mon-El out be teaching to tie a neck-tie.Yep, that's it.Partially inspired by me having to learn how to tie a double windsor off of YouTube an hour before my wedding (I do not recommend doing this).





	Ties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emarasmoak (emara32)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emara32/gifts).



"That is... not right", Mon-El said into the DEO locker-room mirror, the lilac tie around splayed around his neck. The narrow end emerged no more than five inches from the knot, the wide end reached down close to his knees, and both ends stuck out in a way that made it impossible to line them up with each other.

"No," Winn said, "it's not," as he pulled his own neck-tie apart once again, "I don't get it. How do you not know how to do this? I've literally seen you wearing one before."

"The woman at the store I bought it from was very helpful," Mon-El said, making a poor attempt to pull apart the mis-tied knot.

Winn watched the wayward Daxamite fumble for a few moments, then stepped towards him, and slapped his hands out of the way before taking over.

"So, she did it for you? Is that what you're saying?" Winn asked, quickly finding the source of the problem, and unraveling it with his nimble fingers.

"She was very motivated towards good customer service," Mon-El replied. Winn tried not to be too envious at the ease in which Mon-El could navigate through his new, Earth-bound existence. Winn, on the other hand, had lived in National City his whole life, and once spent twenty minutes waiting for service at a restaurant - which maybe wouldn't have been so bad, if the restaurant in question hadn't been a drive-thru.

Mon-El, oblivious, carried on, "Although she got a little upset when I tried to give her the tip."

"When you- you tried to tip the staff at a clothing store?" Winn asked, pulling apart the now-loose knot.

"Well, yeah. Do you not do that?" Mon-El asked, earnestly.

"Well..." Winn said, handing the tie back to Mon-El, "...no."

"Why not?"

"That's... hard to explain," Winn said, being fairly certain he'd need an hour's presentation and several flowcharts prepared before he could even begin to tackle to subject of who Mon-El should and should not tip. "Now," he said - taking his own tie, draped around his neck, "Are you ready?"

Mon-El looped his tie around the back of his neck, took one end in each hand, made sure his hands lined up in position with where Winn's were; and said to the mirror, his face full of concentration, "I'm ready."

"Okay. Cross the wide end in front-" Winn instructed, waiting for Mon-El to complete the instruction before moving on, "-then around the back..."

"Good so far," Mon-El said, pleased that he'd gotten this far.

"Now, take the wide end, and put it UP through the loop - you'll want to hold onto the knot a bit more tightly than that for this part... okay - now, open the knot up a little more, and then take it DOWN through the opening..." Winn watched Mon-El carefully, making sure he didn't fumble it like last time, "...now, keep hold of the knot, pull the wide end down, and then the narrow end, and keep adjusting until the knot's at your collar".

Mon-El did as he was told. The narrow end came down about eight inches past the wide end; but the knot was correct, at least. 

"I feel this could be better," he said.

"Yeah," Winn replied, "but the knot's good, so you just need to keep practicing."

"Why do humans need to make things this complicated?" Mon-El asked, following Winn's lead, and pulling his tie apart.

"Hey, man, just be glad I'm not taking you through the DOUBLE Windsor right now," Winn replied.

Mon-El took a moment to understand what this meant.

"You're saying there's a HARDER version of this- Ah!" There wasn't even a ripping sound. Mon-El had pulled too hard at the wrong point on the tie, and torn it clean in half. He looked at the broken length of cloth in his hands, and muttered something under his breath. Winn hadn't been able to find many Daxamite documents in the DEO archives, but he was pretty sure it wasn't a good out-loud word.

"It's okay, man. It's okay. Kara's Thanksgiving's not that much of a formal event anyway; you don't need to wear a tie. I mean, I wore one last year, but no-one will notice if you don't," Winn said, remembering last year all too well. Between serving as a distraction from the inevitable fight between family members, and being largely ignored by the hostess; it had done nothing so much as remind him of the time when whatever foster family it had been had taken him to see THEIR relatives, and tried to pretend he could be considered as one of their own.

Winn had been grateful to Kara for the invite, to be sure; but he'd be hard-pressed to say the Orphan Black marathon would have been worse.

"Well, I'm thankful. Kara's done a lot for me. I want to make an effort," Mon-El said, matter-of-factly. 

Winn waited for a moment, because Mon-El couldn't possibly be saying what Winn thought he was saying - until Mon-El confirmed it by changing the subject, with all the grace of a penguin attempting ballet:

"So, what's her mother like?"

"Eliza?" Winn asked, stalling for time while he could process this. _Of course_ Mon-El had a thing for Kara. Was there anyone left on Earth that didn't?

But Winn had been so sure. There's no way Kara goes for this guy, he'd thought. Bad boy, wrong side of the asteroid belt, nothing's gonna happen there.

But God loves a trier. Winn felt a little ashamed that he believed it, but Kara was a compulsive fixer. She'd reunited Ms. Grant with her estranged son on a _whim_ , without telling either of them she was doing it. If she could... _inspire_ the Last Son of Daxam to subscribe to Kryptonian values - and thus end the near-millennium-old feud between the two races - it would probably fulfill needs she didn't even know she had.

"Eliza's really... smart. Bio-engineer. Specialises in Exo-virology," Winn said, repeating all the things he'd learned last year, back when he had been in Mon-El's position, "And... she's kind. She's the kind of person you wish your mom had been."

Winn found he had to control himself as he said the last part; having been dumped by his own mother, and then having auditioned for a near half-dozen more during his teenage years, it still snuck up on him sometimes.

"You know what? What else you got? Tie-wise, I mean," Winn said. It'd be so easy to sabotage him, he thought to himself. So easy to set him up to fail, and then watch him crash and burn...

"I got a red one. Matches the grey shirt. Ceremonial colours of Daxam," Mon-El answered.

_But God loves a trier_ , Winn thought. _And so do I._

"Nah, not the grey shirt, it's a little... oppressive. How about the pink?" Winn said.

"Are you sure? Daxam colours work very well," Mon-El said, clinging to his idea.

"Hey! I designed the most famous women's outfit in the world. Do not question me on this," Winn said, defiantly.

Mon-El held his hands up in mock surrender. "I bow to your superior wisdom," he said, bowing slightly as he did, "I'll go get them," and he left the locker room for the annex where his cot and the rest of his clothes were.

Sure, Mon-El was likely to fail, but so what? It wasn't for Winn to tell anyone who they could romance and who they couldn't. And if he could help James - noble; but dangerously vulnerable, squishy human James - to fight a twenty-foot tall alien parasite monster; then he could help a doofus former Royal Guard pitch some woo.

Besides, Winn remembered what James was like when Barry had been around. Winn was kind enough to pretend with James that they were in this together, as far as Kara was concerned; but they weren't really. James was a world-famous, Pulitzer-prize winning photographer; the head of a Fortune 500 company; had _Superman_ as a character reference; was now a superhero in his own right; and was, Winn had to admit, a stunningly beautiful man. The biggest obstacle in James's love life was distinguishing himself from all the guys on dating sites that were pretending to be him. Watching him grouse at another guy trying to be the object of Kara's affections would be way, _way_ too much fun.

Mon-El returned, bright red silk tie in hand, buttoning up the pink shirt; having clearly thrown it onto himself as he walked through Central Ops. 

"Have you thought about flowers?" Winn asked, half-cursing himself for not having the idea twelve months earlier.

"For Eliza?" Mon-El replied, confused.

"Yeah. Nothing fancy. It's just... it's a nice thing to do," Winn said.

"Okay. I'll look into that," Mon-El replied, "Thanks."

"Here to help. Now," Winn said, taking his loose tie in each hand, "Let's get it right this time."


End file.
